Thursday, April 9, 2009

She looked weary, tired, down. Sauntering towards me I could tell it had been a hard day. It did'nt take long before we were talking. "How", "are", and "you" continue to be some wonderfully powerful words, when people know that you mean it.

"Low," she said. Silence. "Couldn't help myself. Didn't want to. I threw up again," she stated flatly staring straight at her hands.

Reaching for her cold fingers, I said, "I'm so sorry."

We haven't known each other very long. But as soon as we knew we had similar struggles, we just got each other. Whenever I see her, I like knowing we can talk. She's never talked to another girl about it like we do. It didn't take long last night before we were laughing and joking about how weird we are and the strange lives we lead.

"Ha! Me neither. When someone says they don't like a certain food, all I'm thinking is, 'Sure it's a little bitter or salty, but, heck, it's edible. It numbs the pain. What more do you need out of a food?" she half-chuckled, relief slowly releasing her tense shoulders.

The pain didn't disappear because we were laughing, the pain just had company. I told her about blogging about the ED, meeting and dating Jeremy with him knowing full-well what he was getting himself into, and promising myself to tell people and write a blog if I throw up again.

"It seems like telling other people is a huge part of recovery huh?"

"Absolutely," I said, "for me." Sensing her discomfort that the overwhelming thought of spilling her guts to anyone, I said, "You're doing it right now. It takes one big leap of faith and you've already done that. You're sitting here talking to me."

I like her. She's a fabulous thinker, dreamer, writer. She has so much to look forward to in her life. I see it pushing, begging for freedom within her.

-----

Sitting in the cafeteria, near the end, avoiding people, head in a textbook. Yup, that's me. This is my existence, currently. This is my academic identity, the one I loathe and seems to be completely necessary for any type of success in the world.

He approached me as I hesitated even looking up. "Hey Heather."

Knowing I had so much to do and hardly enough time, I greeted him and waited for him to tell me what he needed. Very quickly disappointed in myself for putting work before people, again, I relaxed and started listening. We feel similarly about school, writing, book stores, spirituality, the weather, blogging, and nifty, crafty things. We ended up talking for close to an hour.

I'm excellent at getting things done at any price. I can bury myself in books and do what I need to do, but a social life? Umm, no. Things like a social life, fun, and play are not a priority in my life. Correction: a social life, fun, and play are not currently a priority in my life. I'm working on it.

He's helping. Good guy. Grateful for his random "sit down, talk it out, listen, laugh" get together with me. Thanks.

-----

Shyly paying for her tapioca pudding, she dared look me in the eyes and quickly looked back at her purse of coins. "Hi there. That will be 75 cents," I tell her.

Digging with her finger, sorting through metal coins, clinking against eachother, "Umm, this one, how much?" she asked, holding up a dime.

"That is 10 cents. Do you have more coins?"

Searching further she pulled out 6 pennies. "Seventy five?" she asked hopefully.

"These coins are worth 1 cent. So together you have 16 cents."

Working together to sort out enough coins to equal 75 cents, I asked, "Where are you from?"

"Thailand. You know?"

"Yes, I know where Thailand is. I visited Bangkok last year and the island of Puhket."

"Well, I spent last year in Cambodia teaching English, but I visited Thailand. It is a beautiful country. I like Thailand."

I could've been complimenting her personally because she looked shyly at the counter obviously recollecting her home so far from Nebraska as she smiled. Apparently she has been here in the States for 2 months and leaves in 2 weeks. As she left, she turned around again, "Oh what your name?"